Harry Potter and the Bride of Voldemort
by angedelune
Summary: Harry is training to be the wizard he needs to be in order to defeat Voldemort. Draco has renounced his family and returns to school with an American transfer student, Talia Ikari. Harry and Draco become close, but will Talia's secrets tear them apart? HD
1. Musings

Chapter 1 - Musings  
  
It was a warm night in Little Whinging, Surrey. A cool wind blew in the bright moonlight, easing some of the heat. The streetlights were lit, the large square houses dark and silent. The window of the smallest bedroom of number four, Privet Drive was wide open and if any neighbors were awake they would be able to see a skinny dark-haired teenage boy gazing un- seeingly at the night. He looked more than a little underfed and his normally bright emerald green gaze was shadowed by sorrow. Though most of the neighbors were scornful and wary of the Dursley's nephew, even they would have felt a little sorry at the expression in Harry Potter's eyes.  
As usual, haunted by insomnia, Harry thought of Sirius. With his relatives asleep and with nothing to occupy his time he could only think of his godfather's death. Every time he closed his eyes he would see him falling, ever so slowly, towards the ragged veil. It was as if it was etched into his brain, so perfectly could he see the moment. Every time his eyelids would flutter shut, just before sleep, he would see the awful look of surprise and fear on Sirius's face. Just thinking of his godfather could bring tears to his eyes.  
So lost was Harry in his thoughts that he almost missed the ghostly figure soaring towards his window until it was dangerously close to crashing into Harry's face. Hedwig landed on his bed, hooting indignantly.  
"Sorry, girl," he whispered soothingly, half afraid that she would wake the Dursleys. When he noticed the letter and a floppy package tied to his owl's leg he asked, "Is this from Hermione?" Hedwig hooted softly in reply. Harry thanked her and untied the letter and package before putting her back into her cage and giving her some water and an owl treat. Then he turned his attention to Hermione's letter. Dear Harry,  
Are you sure you're doing okay? I know you don't want me to worry, but I can't help it. I keep feeling as if there is something you're not telling Ron and I. We're your best friends; I hope you know that you can tell us anything.  
I'm not going anywhere this summer really, but I'll most likely go to the Burrow sometime during August. My parents are beginning to get a bit wary of sending me to Ron's house this year with 'teenage hormones' as they put it in play. I keep telling them that Ron and I are just friends but they're not totally convinced.  
Are you sure that Headmaster Dumbledore won't let you go to the Burrow at all this summer? Even if the wards do protect you at your aunt and uncle's, you have gone to the Burrow before and been safe. I don't really understand it, but if the Headmaster thinks it's best...  
I know you're wondering what the package is because your birthday is not for a few weeks yet. I thought that you might want to study a little more outside of the curriculum with you teaching the DA (that's if you're still doing it next year; you are, aren't you?), so I sent you the Flourish and Blott's catalog. I hope you'll find it useful.  
If I don't see you at the Burrow, I hope that Ron and I will at least get to see you in London when we shop for next year's school supplies. It's hard to believe that we have only two years left at Hogwarts, isn't it? Anyway, tell us the day you'll be in London so we can meet you there. Love from,  
Hermione  
  
Harry smiled softly. Wasn't that just like Hermione to send him a book catalog? Ron would have rolled his eyes if he could see. At the thought of his two best friends, Harry sighed. He didn't know how he would get through the summer without seeing them. Who knew if Dumbledore would even let him go to Diagon Alley? It was getting harder and harder to trust the Hogwarts Headmaster nowadays. He just couldn't forget the fact that the knowledge of the prophecy, which might even have saved Sirius's life, was kept from him. He wanted to weep from frustration when he thought of it.  
Then there was the prophecy itself to consider. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies". How could Harry have the power to defeat one of the most evil, most powerful wizards of all time? The idea was almost laughable. All I do is get my friends killed, Harry thought bitterly. In the wake of the self- pitying thought, though, he felt new determination surge through him. Not anymore, he thought. Never again. I won't let them get hurt.  
Harry was expected to kill Voldemort. Special power or no, he could develop the skill necessary to protect the wizarding world and muggle world alike. The skill necessary to avenge Sirius's death. He wasn't sure exactly how to do this, but he had to. Absentmindedly he fingered through the book catalog. Perhaps he would find this catalog useful, after all. 


	2. Unexpected Changes

Chapter 2 – Unexpected Changes  
  
Dawn found Harry sitting on his bed with a red pen in hand, the Flourish and Blotts catalog marked by bright red circles. He had found many titles that seemed both interesting and useful. He wanted to become an Animagus like Sirius and his father, so he selected The Beast Within and So You Want To Be An Animagus. He selected several books about apparation, duelling, wandless magic, even potions. The more he thought about it the more he found things that interested him and skills that seemed useful. Maybe I'll turn into a bookworm like Hermione. I can just see Ron's face if I say I'd rather read than go flying.  
The problem was, he would not be able to put the theories from the books into practice until the fall term started. Spending all summer reading about these skills and not being able to practice them would drive him insane. I really need to work on my patience, he thought to himself. He stared into the distance, thinking hard. Maybe if I ask the Headmaster...? He quickly banished the thought from his mind. I don't know what other way there is, he thought glumly. Finally, he decided that he would think about it later. He finished his selection and made out the form to send. When he was done, he went to his snowy owl's cage and eased his arm behind Hedwig, underneath her tail, and let her climb onto his arm. He set her gently on his bed. He rolled up the order form and tied it to Hedwig's leg. "Take this please to Flourish and Blott's, girl," he told her, stroking he soft head before letting her climb onto his arm. She hooted softly in response before launching herself off his arm and out of the window. He prayed that there weren't any early risers to witness the owl's flight, and went to his bed. Maybe I can manage a few hours of sleep before the Dursleys wake up. He checked to clock by his bed as he set down his glasses to see that it was two minutes to seven. Or maybe just one, he thought wryly before managing doze off.  
  
"Up, you lazy boy! GET UP!"  
  
Harry woke suddenly to a pounding on his door. "Merlin," he groaned before shoving his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and swinging his feet onto the floor. "I'm coming!" He snapped as the pounding continued. "Hurry up! You need to make the breakfast as Petunia's not feeling well," Uncle Vernon ordered through the door. Harry could hear his uncle's heavy footsteps going towards the direction of the stairs. "Bastard," Harry muttered as he stood. He felt like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all.  
Vernon was the only one awake, Harry saw when he reached the kitchen. Dudley's probably getting a bit of a lie-in, as he has since the summer hols started, Harry thought bitterly. He of course had been up every morning, woken by the sound of his uncle's yells and pounding on his door. Eight o'clock, every bloody morning. Is is too much to ask to sleep 'til ten? Aunt Petunia usually just made tea and started the eggs before handing the cooking over to Harry. He had come to enjoy the work somewhat, as long as Uncle Vernon kept his orders of "hurry up" to a minimum.  
"Make the tea! You'll make me late," Uncle Vernon growled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry muttered sullenly as he filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. "Don't give me that cheek, boy! After all me and Petunia have done for you..." Uncle Vernon said, glaring at his nephew. "Petunia and I," Harry murmured. Uncle Vernon stood up and towered over the small teenager. His hand rose in the air as well, as if preparing to backhand him. "I should teach you some respect!" he sneered. "Lord knows they neglect to teach it to you at that school of yours."  
Hit me. I dare you. There was a long, tense moment of silence as Harry and Vernon glared at each other in the middle of the kitchen. The kettle began to whistle, and Vernon blinked. His hand dropped, he returned to his seat at the table and picked up the paper. He doesn't have the courage, Harry thought to himself. What he would do if Vernon did hit him he had no idea. He was physically much weaker than his uncle, though quicker. Run like hell, I suppose, he decided as he poured his uncle's tea. He brought it to the table and started on the eggs and bacon. He brightened when he realized that he could make enough for himself and be able to eat it properly when his uncle was gone.  
Oh, if Malfoy and the rest of his Slytherin followers can see me now. The great Harry Potter, Gryffindor's 'Golden Boy', serving a Muggle's tea and breakfast, he thought as he brought his uncle's plate to the table. Vernon grunted before sprinkling salt on his eggs. They have no idea what my life is like.  
Vernon finshed his meal and went to the door to get his briefcase. "Bring your aunt her breakfast. And you'd better not disturb Petunia and Dudley's rest or I'll know why," he said angrily before slamming the door. Harry just shook his head and returned to the kitchen to prepare his aunt's breakfast tray. He balanced everything carefully as he walked up the stairs, hoping he didn't trip. When he reached Petunia's door he shifted the tray into his left hand and knocked on the door. "Come in," a voice said tiredly.  
Harry opened the door and set the tray on his aunt's lap as she sat up. She looked haggard and exhasted, as if she hadn't slept. "Thank you," she told him softly. Harry blinked in surprise and stared at his aunt. She gave a wan smile and took a sip of her tea. "I haven't treated you well at all, have I?" She asked suddenly. Harry shifted uncomfortably and gave a nearly inaudible, "No." "I'm sorry. I was always... jealous, I suppose, of Lily. Of the attention she got from our parents. I took that out on you and for that I apologize. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't even Lily's fault."  
"Why are you telling me all of this now?" Harry wanted to know, giving his aunt a piercing look. Petunia sighed and took anoter sip of her tea. "Last summer, your Headmaster reminded me of my responsibilities to you. After all, it is our role as your guardian that gives you the protection from... whoever it is that's after you." Harry cleared his throat and stared at the floor, his hands behind his back. "Lord Voldemort and his followers. They call themselves Death Eaters," He offered. He could hear the china rattle as she shivered. "Yes. Him," she said simply.  
"Why does he want to kill you so badly?" she asked curiously after a moment's silence. "I'm the only one that can – that can defeat him," he told her, wondering why he did so. He hadn't told anyone else. "Are you training to do so?" she asked him before taking a bite of her eggs. Harry looked at her sharply. "I'm going to start as soon as I can," he replied. She sighed again. "You should ask Dudley if you can use his gym," she advised.  
After Dudley and Harry's encounter with the dementor last summer, Dudley had been scared enough to start to learn how to defend himself. He slimmed down and became more muscular and had started heavywieght boxing. Vernon, proud of his son, had bought him the equipment necessary for a gym that had been installed in the basement. Harry was surprised at the change in his cousin, and refrained from informing him that all of it was useless against a dementor. At his aunt's suggestion, he snorted. "I doubt he'll let me."  
"I think he might," she told him, smiling softly. "You haven't spoken with him at all since you came home three days ago, have you?" Harry shook his head. His cousin had surprisingly avoided him so far, and Harry was more than happy to comply. "You might be surprised at just how much he has changed," she continued. He mentally scoffed at the thought of his cousin giving him permission to touch his precious equipment, but aloud he told her, "I'll ask." "Good," she said satisfied. "You can go and get your own breakfast. I know Vernon wouldn't let you eat at all, if it were up to him." He nodded and went to the door. Before leaving he hesistated and turned around. "Thank you," he said a little bashfully. She merely smiled and nodded before he left her room. Well, that was... unexpected, he thought to himslef as he returned to the kitchen. 


	3. Family

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, but a future O/C does.  
  
Warning: This is eventually slash, if you don't like it, don't read it. Don't bitch at me because of it.  
  
Chapter 3 – Changes  
  
At about ten thirty, Harry heard a knock on his door. He was reviewing his fourth year Potions material, as he had found it useful to read over his old textbooks. He discovered basic terms and information and cemented it more firmly into his mind than he had done at school. Interrupted from his work, Harry looked up in annoyance. "Come in," he said a little sharply.  
The door opened to reveal Dudley dressed in loose black pants and a sleeveless red shirt that showed his now muscular arms. He pulled on his second black fingerless glove, and flexed his hands.  
  
"Er – mum said you wanted to ask me something," Harry's cousin said hesitantly.  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied and paused, unsure of how to phrase his request. Ultimately he just blurted it out. "CouldIuseyourequipment?"  
  
"What?" Dudley asked, his forehead creased in confusion.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and repeated his question. "Could I maybe use your gym equipment? To, you know, work out."  
  
Dudley gave a small smile. "Well, what else would you use it for?" He asked rhetorically. Harry shrugged and his face warmed. Dudley thought about it for a minute before replying, "Sure. I could show you how to use it now, if you like." Harry smiled slowly and nodded before jumping off of his bed.  
  
"Are you going to wear that?" frowned Dudley, waving at Harry's baggy jeans and over-large gray t-shirt.  
  
"Er – I don't really have anything else besides things like this," the smaller boy confessed. "Is it a problem?" Dudley shook his head.  
  
"Not for now, but you may want to find some new clothes sometime soon. Maybe you can ask Mum to buy you some next time she goes to London..."  
  
"I have money," Harry interrupted. "I'll just ask if I can go with her. I need some new clothes, anyway." Dudley nodded and Harry followed him into the basement.  
  
They spent the next hour going over the equipment and what types of excercises Harry could do. Dudley had him do a few sets on each machine. The last thing Harry's cousin taught him how to use was the punching bag, which was trickier than Harry expected it to be. They spent the longest on that while Dudley showed him footwork and different combinations to try. "The punching bag is my favorite thing to use in here," Dudley told Harry. "It's a great way to work out agression."  
By the time they were through, Harry was soaked with sweat. His t- shirt was much darker on his chest and underneath his arms in particular. It was only quarter to twelve but Harry was exhausted. "You won't be so tired after you start building up some muscle and your stamina," Dudley explained when they were in the kitchen drinking glasses of water. "That was a relatively mild work out. Don't worry, you'll be able to see and feel the difference in a few weeks." Harry nodded his understanding and rolled his shoulders. "Should we work out a schedule or will we use the gym at the same time?" Harry wanted to know.  
"Different times would be best. How about you go at eight thirty or so and I'll go at eleven, seeing as Dad has you up anyway?" Dudley suggested gingerly. Harry considered the idea and nodded. "Fine by me."  
They went their separate ways after that. Harry had yard work to do as he always did on Tuesdays and Saturdays, it being the former. Dudley went back to his room. His cousin waved at him when Harry saw him leave with some of his friends a little later on.  
Aunt Petunia was up about an hour before Vernon was due home. She smiled and greeted Harry before she set about cleaning and cooking in the kitchen. Remembering what Dudley had said about clothes, he approached her timidly. "Aunt Petunia?"  
"Yes, Harry?" she asked and turned to her nephew in surprise. She still had faint bags under her eyes, though she appeared less tired. "Could I go with you next time you go into London?" he asked, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt as he always did when he was nervous. He forced himself to put his hands by his sides and keep them still. She smiled at him. "Of course you may. I was planning to go Thursday afternoon, is that alright?" "That's fine," he assured her. "Thank you." "Oh, it's no trouble. I don't mind at all, she told him, waving a hand. He smiled at her before returning to his room.  
Harry was pleased to see that Hedwig had returned. Flourish and Blott's had sent a note informing him that they would owl him his books in the next few days. Harry quickly scribbled a note to Gringotts asking for some Muggle money by Thursday. He gave Hedwig several owl treats along with some water and tied the note to her leg. "Sorry, girl, for sending you out so soon again," he apologized, stroking her soft pure white feathers. She hooted softly in forgiveness before taking flight once more from his windowsill.  
He managed to finish his fourth year Potions textbook before his aunt called him down for supper. Wary of Uncle Vernon, Harry descended the stairs and entered the kitchen to find four places set at the table instead of the customary three. Vernon entered a minute later. When he saw the table, his brow furrowed. "Petunia d-dear, are we having c-company?" he asked, unable to believe his eyes.  
  
"No," Aunt Petunia told him firmly. "Harry is eating with us tonight."  
  
"B-but..."  
  
"No buts, dear. Enough is enough. Harry may be a wizard –" Vernon flinched, "but he is still family. Lily may have been a witch –" again Vernon flinched, "but she was still my sister. From now on, we will treat him as our flesh and blood ought to be treated." Harry started at his aunt as Vernon paled then turned an ugly shade of mauve. Petunia held his gaze, never wavering for an instant. "Fine," Vernon gritted out before sitting down at the table.  
"Well, don't just stand there, Harry," Petunia said kindly as she took a seat. "Sit." Vernon glaring at him all the while, Harry sat. Dudley was already at the table and looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. The meal was a quiet one. Vernon did not speak at all, merely ate and glowered, and Harry did not have the faintest idea of what to say. Petunia asked both Harry and Dudley various questions on their activities during the day. Vernon only grunted when she announced that she felt much better.  
Near the end of the meal, Aunt Petunia told Dudley that Harry and her were going to London the day after next and whether he would like to come along. Vernon made a chocking noise but his wife ignored him. Dudley shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I don't think so. I'm supposed to go over Pier's house," he explained. "Well, do you need anything?" she asked her son. "No, mum, I'm fine." She nodded and asked him, "Would you wash the dishes, Dudley? Harry can clear the table."  
They both nodded and Dudley went to the sink. As Harry began to clear the table, Vernon hissed at him, "What have you done to my wife?" Harry stared at him, shocked, then outraged. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't do anything," he hissed right back. Vernon glared, his face beginning to redden. "Don't give me that! You with your damn freakishness –"  
"Stop it, Vernon," Petunia said sharply. "I'm not under any kind of spell. I've been thinking about we've been treating Harry his whole life since last summer. What drove it home was our talk with Harry's friends at the train station. I was ashamed at how they who were stranger to Harry for the first ten years of his life defended him and protected him more than his own family, Vernon! And you should be ashamed as well. Yes, Harry's a wizard, but he is a boy as well. He's still just a boy." Vernon glared at his wife. His mouth a thin, tight line he stood and walked out of the kitchen.  
"You didn't have to do that," Harry said awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Nonsense. It's high time we started treating you right, and he needs to realize that. Now, finish clearing off the table and you can go on back to your room if you like." Harry obeyed silently. When he was alone once more in his room, he went over the day's events in his head. Serves him right, he thought to himself as he remembered Petunia's scolding. His mind whirling, he turned his attention to his studies. A few hours later he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time that summer.  
  
Please review, so that I have incentive to finish this story. Helpful critiques are encouraged, flames just bring down my self-esteem. 


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